If you want to understand why the United States attacked Venezuela, do not waste too much time listening to the lofty speeches about democracy, human rights, or saving the Venezuelan people. Those are the wrapping paper. Tear it off and what you will find underneath is oil – thick, heavy, inconvenient oil that refuses to fit neatly into Washington’s idea of obedience.
Venezuela sits on the largest proven oil reserves on the planet – more than Saudi Arabia, more than Iran, more than Iraq. According to the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries, Venezuela’s reserves are estimated at over 300 billion barrels, most of it concentrated in the Orinoco Belt. This is not disputed data. It is publicly available, widely acknowledged, and strategically explosive.
Oil is not just an economic commodity. Oil is power. Oil decides currencies, alliances, wars, and regime changes. And Venezuela, under President Nicolás Maduro, committed what Washington considers the ultimate geopolitical sin: it refused to fully submit its oil policy to American interests.
For decades, the United States has treated Latin America as its strategic backyard. From Guatemala to Chile, from Panama to Nicaragua, history is littered with examples of governments being destabilised, overthrown, or disciplined when they defied Washington’s economic priorities. Venezuela is not an exception; it is the latest chapter.
The trouble began long before the current escalation. Venezuela’s state oil company, PDVSA, was nationalised and structured to keep control of oil revenues firmly in Venezuelan hands. Under Hugo Chávez and later Maduro, oil income was redirected towards social programmes and sovereign control rather than foreign shareholders. This was unacceptable to American oil interests that had grown accustomed to privileged access.
The United States did not suddenly “discover” that Venezuela had governance problems. Corruption, inefficiency, and mismanagement existed for years. Yet for a long time, Washington tolerated worse regimes elsewhere — as long as oil flowed smoothly and loyalties remained intact. Venezuela’s real crime was not authoritarianism; it was independence.
Sanctions were the first weapon. Economic warfare preceded military action. The US progressively tightened restrictions on Venezuelan oil exports, financial transactions, and access to international markets. These sanctions strangled PDVSA’s ability to operate, maintain infrastructure, and sell oil freely. The Venezuelan economy collapsed, not in isolation, but under deliberate external pressure.
Washington then used this collapse as proof of Maduro’s failure – a crisis it helped manufacture.
Under Donald Trump, the policy became openly confrontational. Trump was less interested in polite diplomatic language and more willing to say what previous administrations preferred to whisper. He openly stated that “all options are on the table” – a phrase that in American foreign policy has always meant military intervention when economic tools fail.
Why escalate now? Because global energy geopolitics has shifted.
The United States may be a major oil producer today, but it still thinks in imperial energy terms. Control over oil-rich regions is not only about supply; it is about denying rivals access. Venezuela’s oil partnerships with Russia, China, and Iran deeply worried Washington. Allowing Caracas to anchor itself within an alternative energy and financial bloc threatened the US dollar’s dominance in energy trade.
Venezuelan oil is especially significant because of its quality and scale. The Orinoco crude is heavy, but when blended and refined, it becomes highly valuable. American refineries, particularly on the Gulf Coast, were historically designed to process Venezuelan heavy crude. Cutting Venezuela out did not remove dependence; it created urgency to control the source.
The capture of Maduro was therefore not a sudden moral awakening. It was the logical end of a long escalation – from sanctions, to diplomatic isolation, to covert pressure, and finally to open force. Regime change, once denied, became undeniable.
Washington will argue that the Venezuelan people will benefit. History suggests otherwise. Iraq had oil and was “liberated.” Libya had oil and was “saved.” Both nations collapsed into chaos, factionalism, and long-term instability – while foreign energy companies re-entered through the back door.
Let us be clear: Venezuela’s internal failures are real. Corruption hollowed institutions. Economic mismanagement worsened suffering. But these failures do not explain American bombs. Many corrupt regimes survive peacefully because they align with US interests. Venezuela did not.
The narrative of democracy promotion collapses when examined alongside America’s alliances with absolute monarchies and military dictatorships. The only consistent principle is resource control.
This is not about left versus right, socialism versus capitalism, or Maduro versus opposition leaders. This is about who controls oil reserves that can influence global prices, supply chains, and strategic leverage for decades.
Venezuela’s oil reserves represent long-term power. As the world transitions unevenly toward renewables, oil remains the backbone of military logistics, aviation, shipping, and industrial production. Whoever controls major reserves controls the pace and price of transition itself.
The uncomfortable truth is this: had Venezuela possessed no oil, it would not matter how badly it was governed. There would be no sanctions, no sudden concern, no military action. It would be another troubled country ignored by the so-called international community.
Oil turned Venezuela into a target.
And that is why this moment should alarm not just Venezuelans, but all resource-rich nations that believe sovereignty protects them. It does not. In the modern world order, sovereignty exists only until it interferes with strategic resources.
The lesson is brutal but clear: when oil is involved, law follows power, not principles. Venezuela learned this the hard way. The rest of the world would be foolish not to pay attention.
